


Botticelli Kisses

by astrotxt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/F, Jock!Jo, Punk!Anna
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-22
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-02-10 00:33:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2004051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrotxt/pseuds/astrotxt





	1. Chapter 1

It was a beautiful Monday morning in Lawrence, Kansas, sun shining, birds singing, the whole enchilada, as Joanna Beth Harvelle’s heart pumped far too hard in her desperate bid to not be late for Professor Tran's Romanticism lecture for the second time in two weeks. She couldn’t even blame anyone but herself this time, not even the temptation of the dumb Winchester brothers that had invited her to go drinking the night before. She hadn’t gotten laid in a while, hadn’t met someone who entertained her for long enough to warrant sex. Someone who inspired her upstairs as much as her downstairs. She couldn’t remember when she’d gotten so concerned with that, maybe it was part of the college experience, this whole maturity thing rushing over her at once. Nope, that didn’t work, else she wouldn’t have stayed up ’til 2am stealing Dean’s money at poker - or rather, taking, since stealing implied some level of difficulty. 

 

 

But here she was, semi-mature Jo, her re-purposed oversized softball varsity jacket flapping behind her as she burst into the lecture hall just as Tran was clacking her cards on the lectern. She panted, feeling the sweat eke into her golden hairline, giving a wobbly smile as her professor raised a slow eyebrow at her, craning her neck to the clock.

 

“Not late.” Jo smirked, still a little breathless. She had sprinted all the way, after all. A few quiet laughs from the rest of the class but no more comment once she’d sat down. She was about to grab her pad and pen out when a flash of bright red hair caught her eye. Looking over to her left she saw that girl, Anna something, smiling as she doodled on her own notepad, waiting for the lecture to actually started. She was really… Jo didn’t have words enough. It was like looking at a piece of art and trying to pinpoint all the minutiae that culminated to create something so heart-stoppingly gorgeous. And she could only see one side of her. She attempted to listen to what prof was talking about, but she could barely take her eyes off the young woman as she scrunched her brow and concentrated fiercely on the Pre-Raphaelites’ infamous lifestyles. 

 

 

After the lecture, Jo watched as Anna packed up and caught up with her as she left the room. Anna, however, wasn’t aware of this, so when she suddenly realised she was going in the wrong direction for her next class, she slammed right into Jo. 

 

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, man, I’m- “

 

And oh, if she had been distracting from afar, she was a vision up close. Her bright red hair fell in waves on one side, as the other side had been shaved. Her dark eyes were framed with dark eyeliner, and her nose ring glinted in the fluorescent lighting of the hallway. But then, then Jo caught notice of her arms. Her pale upper arms were freckled, delicate and begging to be littered with kisses. Her forearms, oh jesus her forearms. They were coloured with intricately constructed tattoos, the canvas of her skin peering through the images of famous Botticelli iconography. On her right were cherubs with chubby arms and golden halos, intertwined with  _Primavera’s_  beautiful flowers. On the left, well, it was a greek verse, twisting around her arm, until it reached her middle finger, accented with sea shells and interspersed with Venus, perfectly rendered rather than trying to attempt realism, her nudity only just hidden by the characters of the poetry. Jo didn’t even realise she’d started tracing over the letters until she noticed how Anna smelt remarkably like rosewood and paint. 

 

“Um.” Anna laughed nervously. 

 

Jo retracted her hand like she’d been burnt (there was a joke about Anna being that hot, but she’d already scared the girl, best to keep the puns to herself) “Jesus, I’m such a freak, I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s, um, it’s alright.” she smiled and it was a perfect and heart-breaking smile. “You can keep touching them.” She curled her lips inward and watched as Jo’s fingers resumed their ministrations.

 

It was strange, the two of them, standing in the hallway, never having spoken before, not speaking then. But as Jo let her fingers dance over Anna’s skin, so unutterably tender, Anna’s face sank into an embarrassed blush.

 

“I’m not crêpe paper you know, I’m not gonna… rip.” she whispered, her breath hitching as Jo kept her touch gentle. 

 

“Well, way I see it, you handle works of art carefully, least that’s what my Uncle Bobby always taught me.” she grinned as Anna’s breath kept catching. “When did you get these done?”

 

“I didn’t so much get them done as, I, um, did them.” Anna said, smiling as she trailed off, looking down at her work.

 

Holy shit. “You did these yourself?” she marvelled, unabashedly astounded at the incredible art Anna had produced.

 

“I’m a big fan of Botticelli, especially the Birth of Venus, so, um, yeah.” she pointed to the words, “That’s the verse the painting’s based on. My brother’s a huge nerd, so he found the translation for me, but um, well I kinda got the artsy deal.”

 

“You wanna do it for a living?” Jo guessed, finally letting her hands drop, shoving her hands in her jacket and looking at Anna, never dropping her gaze as she spoke. 

 

“Yeah, my mom and dad really made a huge deal, in, in a good way though, like they made sure I knew how to do it properly, they invested in all these safety courses for me… They’ve always, um, encouraged me, whatever.” she trailed off again, and oh, how Jo would love to never hear this girl trail off ever again, how she’d live to listen to every word that popped into that perfect head. “Sorry, I crash into you and start rambling on my life story.”

 

“Well, it’d be great to know how it ends, this life story of yours.” Jo quipped, “Would you, woah, sweaty hands, whoops, would you like to, maybe, if you’re not busy, go out for dinner? Sometime? With me?” she stammered out, and her heart hammered inside her chest, her mouth was dry, it was leagues away from the usual cool she maintained asking normal people out. But Anna was far too important for normal, Jo felt that thrumming through her already. Anna was vital. 

 

She smiled widely, and Jo could see her tongue gracing the roof of her mouth as those pretty cheeks rose, “That would be great. How about tonight? Around 7 ish?”

 

“What about, um…. At Sandro’s, that Italian place on 8th and Johnson?” she rushed out.

 

“Perfect.” Anna chirped, bouncing a little on her feet. 

 

“Yeah, you are.” Jo murmured, unfortunately loud enough to hear, and when Anna let out a peal of laughter, like church bells ringing, it was her turn to blush like a kid. “That was horrible, I’m so sorry.”

 

“Tonight, then, Jo.” she smiled, and before she could leave, Jo surged forward and gave her a peck on the cheek, turning heel and speeding off. She felt like her heart was about to jump out through her throat, her mind was addled with an unnameable joy. 

 

 

Night couldn’t come quickly enough. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Eighteen. Eighteen  _friggin’_ outfits, and she couldn’t pick one. She didn’t even have that many clothes, this was ridiculous! She had nothing to wear to her date with Anna in… an hour, shit, when did it get that late? she wondered. She scraped her hair off her face, because despite the fact her hair couldn’t do much, she couldn’t decide on  _that_ either. She briefly considered shaving it all off and meeting Anna completely naked. That’d make some sort of impression, right? No, she wanted so badly to actually make an effort for this girl. But she had nothing appro-

 

Ah shit. She knew what she had to do. She plodded across the hall to Bela’s room and knocked gingerly on the door. She heard giggling and there she was, classic Bela, all dressed up like she was goin’ to the friggin’ Oscars, ‘cept it was 6-something on a Monday afternoon. 

 

“Joanna! Hello, what are you up to then, off to run or something ghastly like that?” she sing-songed, leaning against the doorframe looking up at Jo innocently. As if.

 

Jo flopped her arms down against her side pathetically. “I admit defeat.”

 

“You- oh.” she breathed. She craned in to her dorm room and yelled, “Oh! LISA! Lisa, Joanna’s finally folded!”

 

Lisa ran up and started stretching her legs, breathing a little heavily, “You’re kidding, really?”

 

Jo only just managed to stop herself rolling her eyes, “Yes, really, can we get this over with, I’ve got a date in an hour.”

 

“Ooh, who’s the lucky sod, then?” Bela hummed conspiratorially, dragging her into the room.

 

Jo scuffed her shoes a little “Anna Novak.”

 

"With the tattoos?” Lisa asked conversationally.

 

“Yup.” she narrowed her eyes at Bela as she pulled her in and started playing with her hair. “Got somethin’ to say about it?”

 

Bela shrugged, “Nope. Live and let live Harvelle.”

 

“Yeah yeah, get on with it then.” she whined as Lisa snapped her curling irons menacingly. 

 

 

***

 

 

She tugged at the hem of her dress, feeling totally over-exposed. Her back was freezing, her feet were killing, and she desperately needed a drink if she was gonna get through the night wearing only one layer of clothing. She walked up to the maître d’ and he waved her in to her table where Anna was waiting. 

 

Oh  _no_. She’d turned up looking casual but so  _hot_. She was wearing a light pink button-up with the sleeves ripped off, tucked into one of those fancy long pleated gossamer maxi-skirts oh  _no._ Jo had never felt so overdressed in her life. She was ten seconds from turning tail when Anna saw her, standing up and her eyes wide as saucers. 

 

“Jo?” she cautioned, nearly tripping over the table leg.

 

She couldn’t help it; Jo shot her arms up in the air and let out a strained, “Hey!” she motioned for Anna to sit back down as she drew her own seat out and sat. “You haven’t ordered yet, have you?” she asked brightly, sweat collecting just above her brow. It felt gross and all she wanted to do was swipe it right off, but that would’ve messed up the sheer artistry that was slathered up there. So she grinned and bore it, eyes roving, slightly crazed, all over the menu without actually reading it.

 

“Hi, and welcome to Sandro’s, are you ready to order drinks?” a waitress came out of no-where, causing Jo to positively flail. 

 

"Um, y-yeah, could I, wow, could I just have a water? Tap?" she stammered out. 

 

The girl scribbled it down and nodded, “You want ice with that?”

 

"Mmmhmm." Jo said, her blush thankfully mostly concealed by, well, concealer. 

 

"And for you, miss?" she turned to Anna.

 

"Same for me, thanks." she said softly, giving the girl a grin before she bounded off.

 

"So, uh-um, how a-are you?" Jo asked, her hands fumbling in her lap to stop playing with the damn menu. 

 

"Fine, thanks." Anna laughed, "You?"

 

"Oh, me? Good, great, I’m- fine and dandy, I am!" she overcompensated and could she glitching any harder?

 

"That’s good, I could’ve sworn you’re actually nervous, which would be crazy since I’ve had a crush on you since we started." she smiled knowingly before shrugging and looking down at the menu and carrying on like she hadn’t just dropped a total truth-bomb, "You think you’ll get the fish or the risotto? I’m leaning more towards the risotto, y’know."

 

Jo’s mouth had started gaping, she knew absently, but she couldn’t think to care. She immediately relaxed into the evening, and it passed so quickly, she didn’t even realise it was time to order the bill until she noticed Anna’s finger gently tracing spirals on her palm. She closed her hand over her’s and butterflies exploded in her stomach. 

 

As they walked out of the restaurant, hand in hand, Jo realised she’d been dropped off by Lisa, and Anna’s battered Beetle was one of the few cars left in the lot. 

 

"So, um, would you mind taking me back to the dorm? It’s just that, uh, my ride’s not here and cabs creep me the hell out-" she started.

 

"Sure." Anna asserted, opening the passenger door for her. 

 

The drive was uneventful, and a calm quiet settled over them both as Jo intermittently gave directions. Once they got there however, Jo was very reluctant to actually get out. She wondered if it was an imposition to ask Anna to drive them around all night, to spend the night together, soaking up each other’s company in a comfortable void of togetherness. On the other hand, they both had class tomorrow…

 

"This was nice." she stated simply.

 

"Yeah." Anna breathed, leaning forward on her steering wheel and looking up through her windscreen at the inky sky. "It’s beautiful tonight."

 

"You’re… beautiful tonight." Jo quipped, grinning as a blush stole over her features. Anna turned to look at her and wrinkled her nose.

 

"That was terrible." she groused, shoving at her date.

 

"Yeah." Jo snorted, looking down to her lap. "Do you, well, do you wanna do this again."

 

Anna nodded, then, as if Jo hadn’t gotten the picture, she leaned over and kissed her. Jo just stopped herself fist-pumping the air, winning the bet with herself that Anna’s lips felt like rose petals against hers. She ran her tongue over the seam of her lips and Anna gasped as she opened up to her, making Jo moan  _really_ loudly. They broke away panting and Anna started giggling.

 

"You’re the biggest dork I’ve ever dated." she stated decisively. 

 

"Thank god, is there a trophy?" she asked, "I’m a real stickler for trophies, as my mom’ll tell ya."

 

"I’ll get to meet the famous Ellen Harvelle?" she asked jokily.

 

"When you kiss like that? Hell yeah girl." she grinned, watching as Anna leaned over again, her red hair falling in waves around their faces. This kiss was deeper, and Jo gathered handfuls of Anna’s waterfall-like hair and pulled gently at it. 

 

"See you in class." Jo breathed as she finally pulled away, pressing one last chaste kiss, savouring the way Anna’s eyes closed and touched her lips, settling into her seat as Jo slammed the door closed.

 

Jo couldn’t stop her heart hammering if she tried.

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

  It had been three days since their date and Jo was getting jittery. Anna hadn’t turned up to class the day after, and no one had seen her since Monday, and… sheesh, was it her place to get worried? Y’know what, hell yes, so what if they’d only made out a little, only been on one date? Anna was a human being and she deserved to be looked out for, worried about. Shit. Jo also  _really_ just wanted a repeat performance of the last few minutes of their last date, maybe not get cock-blocked by the late hour. She hadn’t been kidding when she’d said the girl could friggin’ kiss. And… she’d wanted to do it again, you- you can’t fake that kinda thing, right? 

Unless she regretted it. And she was avoiding her. 

“Goddammit Jo, pull yourself together.” she muttered to herself. “You can just… drop by her place. Yeah. That’s a normal thing. Friends drop by all the time, don’t they?” She buried her head in her arms, “And now you’re talkin’ to yourself. Awesome.” She stared at her phone; it was the middle of the afternoon, she could… just say hi, maybe bring her some soup. Or cupcakes. "Everyone likes cupcakes, right?” she asked out loud.

“For god’s sake Harvelle, would you either stop jabberin’ or freakin’ leave, I’ve got Crowley tomorrow.” Tracy snapped from her end of the room. 

“You’re right. You’re right!” she cried out, renewed with at least a little decision. “Thanks- oh, do y’know where the nearest pie shop is? ”

Poor long-suffering Tracy sighed, “Up on fifth, between the record store and that corner-long Starbucks.”

Jo bounded over and squeezed her roommate. “You’re the best, Bell.” 

“Whatever, loser. Go get your girl, or whatever.” she smirked. 

Jo was out of the room like a flash, heading straight for the pie store. 

***

Armed with pineapple pie (the guy behind the counter had wiggled his eyebrows, Jo flashing him a cheeky grin back) and cold medicine, Jo strode up to Anna’s dorms. She was about to knock on the door when a cough came from behind her. She turned to see a dark-haired girl leaning against her door post. 

“Can I help you?” 

“I assume you’re looking for Anna?” the girl asked, her voice a condescending drawl.

“You’d assume rightly, know where she is?” Jo tried to be friendly.

The girl inspected her fingernails. “Maybe.”  _R_ _eally tried._

“You gonna tell me?” she said, her tone a lot shorter.

“Depends.”

“What, do I gotta answer your questions three?” she couldn’t really conceal the annoyance anymore, she was in kind of a hurry here. “Where is she?”

“Early on Tuesday, I heard her going somewhere with two dudes. Dark hair, weird name…” she trailed off. 

Anna’s brother? “Castiel?”

She shrugged. “Anyway, the other dude was being all flirty from what I heard, and I think they went back to one of theirs. Haven’t seen her since.”

_ Don’t panic, Harvelle.  _ “Hasn’t anyone checked to see if she’s ok?” she asked with measured impatience. 

“Well, everyone around  _here_ knows what Anna’s like.” she smiled, looking Jo up and down. “She’s pretty active. Needs a lot of space.” Defending a girl you’ve made out with once isn’t weird is it? Wanting to beat down on anyone that talks like  _that_ about Anna isn’t overreacting, nope.

“Whatever.” Jo huffed, turning on her heel and just stopping herself from running out of the dorms. 

She vaguely knew where Cas’ place was, remembering Anna talking about how her brother had managed to get a really great place in an apartment complex near campus. That was, if Anna was even still there. 

Driving a little over the limit, her stomach curdled with uncertainty; what if? What if Anna was with some guy - for the last  _three days_ , her brain unhelpfully supplied - because she’d moved on? 

Jo shook herself out of that gross train of thought. She’d see for herself, not judge the girl just because she hadn’t been seen in a few days. Anna was a free spirited person, she was changeable, she deserved to be given benefit of the doubt, surely? Jo swallowed, wiping her brow. Christ, how much had she been sweating? Her jacket stuck uncomfortably to her, as if she could feel every single fibre rubbing against her pores. 

She parked haphazardly, jumping out of the car before remembering the pie. She darted in and rang the buzzer under the marker that read “Novak”. No answer.  _Crap_ . She rang it again, still nothing. Her tongue felt heavy in her throat. She was about to ring again, when she heard the buzz of the door opening. She ran up the stairs so quickly she barely noticed she’d run up seven flights. By now, she was drenched in sweat, and her clothes felt tacky on her skin. 

The door opened and-

No. “Jo?” Dean murmured, fucking shirtless, fucking shirtless in Anna’s brother’s fucking apartment, flirt-meister Dean fucking Winchester, could get anyone he wanted, how fucking  _could he?_

“Dean.” she said, her reactions at an impasse between crying and clawing her friend’s eyes out. “What’s up?”

He paled as if he just realised it was her. “Um, I- ”

A scratchy voiced Castiel came out of the bedroom, in- in Dean’s Zepp shirt. Jo felt her eyes widen. “Dean, can you stop chatting to the pizza delivery guy and just- oh. You’re not the pizza man.”

“Whaaaat?” she said, her face positively lighting up as she watched Dean’s face go into one of complete panic. 

Castiel squinted, “You are not bearing the pizza, thus I concluded you aren’t- ”

Dean laughed forcefully, gently stroking over his arm for him to stop,  _super familiar_ Jo noted. “Cas, c’mon man.”  

Jo raised her eyebrows and couldn’t stop beaming. “Wow. We need to talk about this.” she barely suppressed a giggle. 

“Ha, we do not- could you- Jo, what the hell are you doin’ here, man?” 

“I’m looking for Anna.”

“She’s in her studio.” Cas cut in, clearly unconsciously rubbing a hand over Dean’s back. “She’s been in there since I invited her out to meet Dean on- wait when was that?”

“Monday dude.” Dean provided, sounding unsettlingly content.

“Tuesday, actually.” a voice piped up from further into the apartment. A flash of red hair and there she was. She had a paisley bandana keeping her it out of her face, the rest of it bunched into a bun that sat lop-sided on her head. She was in dark green overalls over her bra and flecks of paint connected skin and material. It was kinda devastating. 

“Anna.” Jo breathed. 

She nodded in her direction. “Hello, Jo.” Jo’s face must’ve looked pretty devastated (she also smelt bad but hey) because the atmosphere became stuffy with everything not being said. 

Castiel, blessed Cas, gripped Dean’s arm, leading him back to Cas’ room. Dean let himself be led, looking strangely at Jo. “I think this is our cue to leave, will you open the door for the pizza, Jo?”

“I- yeah, sure.” she said, her voice coming out a little shaky.  “Where’ve you been?” she shrugged, closing the door behind her. It swung, slamming louder than expected in the high-ceilinged apartment. 

“Here.” 

She laughed nervously, suddenly aware this was… well it was borderline creepy. She shouldn’t’ve come. “You don’t call you don’t write.” she continued, a chorus of  _you freakin’ lunatic you panicked over nothing_ circling ‘round her brain _._

Anna looked down, then back up at Jo, looking sheepish. “I was… busy.” 

“Too busy to tell anyone where you were?”

“I didn’t…” she chuckled, flapping her arms uselessly about her, “think anyone would miss me.”

“That’s stupid.” Jo choked out without meaning to, her resolve cracking a little. 

Anna carried on looking mildly shell-shocked, fidgeting, before pointing at the crumpled plastic bag in Jo’s hand. “Is that for me?”

“Y-yeah, it was… my mom says pineapple’s real good for you, and just, I thought you were sick or something.” she babbled, her face probably a shade brighter than boiled lobster. “I’m sorry, I should probably go.”

“Wait, you don’t want to see what I was working on?” Anna asked, bouncing on her feet slightly, a shy smile peeking out of the corner of her mouth

“I- ” and just like that, Jo was drawn in again. She softened, “‘Course I do.”

Anna waited until Jo reached her before walking back into the room and it was like walking inside Anna’s mind. Nearly every wall was covered ceiling to floor with sketched, cartoons, designs, some of them fairly old, but a good three quarters of the widest walls was covered with pictures of… her. It was  _her_ , Jo freakin’ Harvelle, adorning the inside of Anna’s head. Little expressions, biting her lip, laughing, embarrassed. Just to the left of them was a huge oil painting, constructed pyramidically with an angel with golden hair embracing a girl that looked just like Anna. 

 

“What is this?” she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper. She was drawn to the angel, her hair flowing like a halo around her head. 

Anna nudged her, inclining her head carefully. “It’s you, Jo.”

“But I’m- do I really look like that?” 

“Yes.” Anna said solemnly. She laughed softly, more of a little snuffling snort, “To me, anyway. Sorry, it’s kinda creepy, but… you’re an inspiring subject.” 

“You’re fucking with me.”

She felt herself being turned to face Anna, her face that of serious concentration. “You’re really beautiful, Jo.” 

“You’re not so bad yourself.” she said jokily as Anna looked her up and down, probably taking in the sweaty demeanour and crazed look in her eye because this was beyond overwhelming. 

Anna’s voice dropped, running her hand up and down Jo’s arms. “I’m sorry I didn’t call I was just… very enveloped in my work.”

“I- I get it. It’s awesome, Anna.”

“I have missed kissing you though.”

“Oh.” “Don’t blame ya, to be honest.”

Anna’s hand was curled around her neck and she completely forgot how damp she probably was, because Anna just engulfed her. Not literally. Ew. It’s just… She smelt like cinnamon and oil paints and she was so fucking warm. She couldn’t stop herself greedily invading her mouth, licking into her, not bothering to conceal the desperation the day had totted up for her. Anna just pressed closer. They broke away only centimetres away from each other. Easy access, Jo thought to herself. 

Jo joked, “Mind if we er, exchange numbers this time?”

“That seems wise.” Anna breathed, muffling nearly every word with kisses. “You’re always so practical.”

“Well one of us has to be, have you even eaten since I saw you last?” Jo laughed against her lips, pulling back and slipping her hand around Anna’s waist, her fingers creeping along her hips before tugging her into her arms. Anna automatically linked her arms around Jo’s neck before pouting a little. 

“Cas is always happy to order in.” she insisted. Jo sighed, reluctant to let go, but more motivated to get a good meal into Anna. 

“C’mon, we’re going to get something which hasn’t been handled by acne-ridden teenage boys.” 


	4. Chapter 4

Sunday morning rolls around and Jo’s aching  _everywhere._ She shouldn’t have slept at her desk all night, but! Papers! Had to be done by Sunday afternoon! She groans at the pain in her back, and she knows instinctively that her knots will have friggin’ knots. Sometimes she worships at the feet of her Sexuality in Art professor (Ms Barnes, what a babe), sometimes she curses the ground she walks on. Swings and roundabouts, y’know? 

She stretches and hears every joint in her back pop with surprising clarity and Tracy groans in her sleep, shoving her comforter over her head. Jo is probably the worst roommate, but she’s also the first to admit it so, that’s something right? 

She decides to make up for it by popping out for coffee, ‘cept her brain helpfully forgets to remind her that, unfortunately, she’s got the back of an osteoporosis-riddled crone. Early mornings; goddamn. She does the worst impression of a raptor, her hands clawing out for her keys and she shuffles downstairs to get something,  _anything_ that’ll ease the pain of both being awake and a really badly organised college student. She opts for Starbucks since it’s closest, although she’d prefer a massage therapist or two. 

*** 

Walking up the stairs she hears… is Tracy fucking  _giggling?_ At midday on a freakin’  _Sunday_? What is this topsy-turvy town? 

She enters the room to see something far more horrifying, i.e. her sort-of-girlfriend Anna shootin’ the shit with her hella gay roommate like they’re old ladies at luncheon. She won’t admit to the little tummy flip and instead focuses on the terror that is Tracy’s expansive knowledge of all of Jo’s past… um……. indiscretions. 

They turn eerily in sync and smile at her. Although Tracy’s smile is a lot more smug than Anna’s. 

“And I finally get to meet the famous Anna, huh?” she grins, wolf-like. The scoundrel. 

“Hey, I was looking for you and, um, Tracy, right?” she waits for the nod of confirmation, “Tracy, she’s been really nice.” 

“I’ll bet she has.” Jo mutters under her breath and Tracy’s eyebrows spike. Shit. 

“Say what, Harvelle?” she asks sweetly. 

“Nothin’, nothin’, just, you’re real hospitable aren’t ya Bell?” she manages to grit out. She loves Tracy to death, but usually it’s the case that she’ll be the cause. “But don’t you have that…. thing?” she asks pointedly. 

“I don’t have a thing.” she waves a hand away, and  _dammit Tracy Elizabeth Bell I swear to every god-_

 _“_ Pretty sure! You have a thing!” she reiterates with a tone of voice resembling  _I will delete Duck Dynasty off our Tivot for. EVER._ Tracy knows that look all-too-well.

She practically jumps up. “Yeah, yEAH! I was gonna… visit… my nanna.” she says difficultly.

“Right.” Anna smirks, and wow, none of this is foolin’ her, huh?

“I’ll tell her you said hi, yeah Harvelle?” she bites out. She manages to quickly whisper, “If you don’t get some action while I’m gone, I get the good pillow for a fuckin’ month, got it?” she waves to Anna, “Bye! Lovely finally meeting you!” And like a hurricane she leaves with Jo to clean up the fucking mess. She scratches her head, “Sorry about that.” 

“In your defence, you are a terrible liar.” 

“How is that a good thing?” she laughs, but Anna’s sweet eyes harden a little. 

“I don’t really… I’m not into liars.” she finishes, leaving off the silent ‘anymore’ that would drive a normal person crazy, but Jo’s just happy Anna’s, like, chosen  _her_. Out of everyone possible in the universe, Anna’s chosen her. For however long. 

She moves forward to give her a hug, but the back strikes…. erm, back, with a vengeance and she’s howling in pain on the floor before you can say ‘KO’. 

“Shit, are you alright?” Anna’s concerned voice would send shivers up Jo’s spine if it didn’t feel like someone was crushing it. 

“Slept weird last night.” she manages to get out, the pain seriously overwhelming. “M’Fine.”

Anna tsks, “You really aren’t, here.” she hoists her up gently but firmly, guiding her to her bed. Jo’s blushing so hard it’s unreal, but the pain’s only just outweighing her need to cover every inch of her sort-of-girlfriend. “Can you lie on your front?” Anna asks, and Jo nods slowly, carefully turning onto her belly, her bra sticking into her sides uncomfortably. Why do underwires have to betray you like that? she wonders, until she feels Anna’s hands sliding up and down her back and  _oh fuck._

She lets out a sinful moan, totally not meaning to, but shit it’s so good. It’s like Anna’s got magic fingers, rolling up and down, thudding around the knots to ease the pain. 

“Just relax,” she says, and if Jo relaxes anymore she’s gonna melt into her mattress, but she obliges, sighing, “is it alright if I take your top off?”

Jo freezes. It’s not like no one’s seen her naked. She’s had plenty of sex, y’know, just sayin’. She just… this is a really intimate setting, ok? But she nods, such a small movement no one else but Anna would notice, her talent for seeing the smaller picture, the details. Anna lifts the loose tank top up and around her, and it feels so natural. Anna resumes, rolling her hands up and down, and she hears the squelch of her moisturiser and suddenly it’s even more delicious, the way Anna kneads her knots out and turns her into a ball of complete bliss.

After what feels like ten minutes but turns out to have been… holy crap, an hour?! Anna’s wringing her hands, laughing softly. “You really needed that, what’ve you been so tense about?” she asks.

“Stuff.” Jo answers at length, “Just, y’know, work, friends- ”

“Me.” Anna chuckles self-depracatingly, and Jo looks at her (probably should do something about the whole staring thing). Her hair’s tumbling down freely, and she’s wearing a big blue t-shirt and a little green skirt and her tattoos move with the flex of her muscles and she’s been looking after Jo for this entire hour and that’s it. Jo leans over and kisses her, drawing away a little before nipping her bottom lip, gentle as anything.

“You’re the least stressful aspect of my life.” she murmurs, kissing her again, “Trust me.” 

Her hands wander down, and suddenly Anna’s sitting on her lap and Jo’s still in her ridiculously uncomfortable bra and she’d give the good pillow for a year to be naked and for Anna to be naked, because the slip-slide of their tongues and Anna’s rolling hips are the stuff of dreams and- 

Anna panting hard and pushing herself away. Um. Shit. “Are you- was that- I’m sorry, was I?” she avoids asking, because fuck, she doesn’t wanna be  _that_ guy. Anna’s breathing heavily and she shakes her head quickly. “God. No. Jo, no, no no absolutely- no.” she says definitively which, hey, relieving as hell, to be honest. She crawls back over to Jo, not quite mounting her, still close though. It’s nice, it’s safe. “I’ve just- I’ve always moved quickly with- well, with everyone.” she licks her lips and blushes when she sees Jo track the movement. “Honestly? This is kinda- but you’re not gonna judge me because you’re Jo, so…” she licks her lips again. “I usually fuck on the first date.” 

 _Oh._ “Oh.” Jo says, eloquent as always. 

Anna’s clearly not done though, “And I mean, you’re- well you’re Jo!” she says, indicating all of her like that means something.

“I’m what, Anna?” ‘cause Jo’s kinda curious here. 

Anna sighs, like she’s defeated, “Don’t make me say it, please.” but Jo must be spaced out or something because she’s just not getting it. Anna sighs again, leaning against the back wall, finding the ceiling more interesting to look at. “You… care about me. I think. And I’ve… shit, I’ve never had that before. And I’m scared.” her voice breaks and Jo just wants to hold her. “I’m scared that if- if we have sex, you’ll leave me and- and I’ll be Jo-less.” she pulls her knees close to her chest and buries her face and Jo’s- kinda speechless.

She taps Anna’s shoulder and pulls her closely, not kissing her, just keeping their faces a hair’s-breadth apart. “Your pace. We go at your pace. I trust you, ok?” she says firmly because never, ever  _ever_ is she gonna allow Anna to think that Jo’s that kinda person. And she’s gonna show her, if it takes every day, she’s gonna show this girl that she deserves all the love in the world, and anything Jo can offer. “You’re safe with me.” Anna sniffs, “Ok?” she cracks a smile, and Anna throws her arms around her, clasping at her still-kinda-greasy back, and Jo’s fisting her hands in that huge blue shirt and Anna smells like musty detergent and she feels so solid and real and her’s. And she’s Anna’s, even if Anna doesn’t know it yet. She’ll show her, though. Every day. 


	5. Chapter 5

A garbled voiceover came over the speakers as they walked in and Jo was beyond unimpressed. The gallery space was your usual white expanse with a few removable wall dividers, although this place had cocktail weiners which would’ve really sold it in Jo’s opinion. The only problem was the artist. Anna tugged her hand and looked at her, asking silently if she was okay. 

 

“M’good.” she mumbled and Anna smiled. So that was good.

 

She was being dragged to her mom’s gallery opening, showcasing the ‘new talent’ she’d picked up, although if you asked Anna, her mom was the least artistically intuitive person in their family. Which was saying a lot taking into account Gabriel’s glaring lack of fashion sense. So when she’d lamented said situation to Jo, upset that it would eat up the majority of her Saturday, Jo had heroically offered herself up as a chaperone, and been rewarded with a squeal of glee, a loud kiss on the cheek and dibs on the remote for three whole days, which meant, naturally, a slew of  _Leverage_ marathons, although she’d finally conceded on the third day to let Anna see some film about Mozart, which was actually fuckin’ awesome. And no, she did  _not_ cry, shut up Anna.

 

But walking through this place now? She shoulda wrangled for a whole week’s worth of programmes. The artist was clearly totally conceited, and his parallels were garish and clunky, not to mention completely unfounded. Like his self portrait in the style of Richter, which was essentially just a photoshopped photograph of him lying down, pretending to have been shot. Even his name was ridiculous, who named their kid Eugene when he already had a surname like Buckner-Leming? Anna nodded thoughtfully, but Jo could totally tell she was internally screaming at the utter lack of ingenuity this guy had, and regardless had managed to hang onto Angela Novak’s coattails and bag himself a high-profile gallery exhibition. It was sickening, especially considering the incredible talent of her girlfriend. Yeaaah that’s right  _girlfriend_ hell yeah.

 

Anna was fidgeting with her suspenders, tweed ankle-brushers and dude’s shirt with the sleeves artfully frayed from being ripped off completing the most hipster-y look she could think of, yet it hung so effortlessly off Anna’s frame, and honestly if she had arms like hers she wouldn’t hesitate deleting every sleeve from her wardrobe too. Plus, it meant when it got a little colder Anna grumbled and stole Jo’s letterman which was so  _so spicy hot._  


 

She traced her fingers, still stained with blank ink from cleaning her equipment the day before, over the back of Jo’s hand surreptitiously. Jo’s eyes flicked up and  _ah_. Anna was giving her The Look, and they walked as calmly as they could to the girl’s bathroom. 

 

Anna was on her without a word and Jo couldn’t help moaning into her mouth as it moved hotly against hers. She crowded Jo against the sinks, pristine white rows in a pristine white table. Anna hoisted her up with those - Jo bit her lips -  _really_ strong arms. She pushed insistently against her, and Jo was completely caught up in want before she remembered what Anna said a couple weeks back. She gently pulled away and watched Anna bounce on her toes to try and kiss her again but she held back.

 

“What are you doing?” Anna pouted, jittering one foot up and down.

 

Jo just looked at her, “Could ask ya the same, twinkle toes.” she stroked down her face distractedly, “What happened to taking it slow?

 

“Well, I mean, I can’t be expected to hold out on you for so long. You’ve got needs.” she insisted, her voice going softer as she prised Jo’s legs apart slightly, her culotte shorts gathering to the creases of her groin. Jo bit back a moan, but shook her head.

 

“Anna, I’m not someone you have to appease.”

 

Anna looked down, a blush colouring her cheeks, “But you’re bored,” she murmured, “and it’s my fault.

 

Jo scrunched up her nose and gave a short laugh, “Anna, I’m here for you for whatever, man. I volunteered, none of this is your fault. In the slightest.

 

Anna inspected her carefully before nodding, letting out a sigh of what couldn’t be anything other than relief and Jo knew she’d done the right thing. What both of ‘em wanted. “Thanks.” she said shakily.

 

“We can, however, still make out.” Jo said slyly.

 

“Ever the opportunist, Harvelle.” Anna said grinning as she curled her arm ‘round her waist, Jo letting out a little whimper into her mouth, which Anna just swallowed back up.

 

The bathroom door banged open and in walked in a woman, tall, greying and utterly furious. Her hair was streaked with fading blonde, but Jo knew those eyes anywhere.

 

“Mom.” Anna scrambled away from Jo, wiping her mouth and looking like a slapped kid. Jo wanted nothing more than to kiss the expression off of her face, but somehow she reckoned that would only make matters worse. She tried to subtly pull her short legs further down her thighs but Angela Novak’s hawk-vision darted to it and up to Jo. She could feel her ears burning.

 

Angela turned to Anna, and where Anna’s eyes were deep and warm, her mother’s were beady and focused. “Is that what you’re doing while you’re in  _my_ gallery?” she waved her hand at Jo, “Slumming it?” Jo felt that like a punch in the gut as she looked down at her dad’s old baseball shirt and her hand-me-down shorts, her converse falling apart. Anna just stood there, lip wobbling. “Well? Have you nothing to say for yourself?” When Anna said nothing, she sighed tiredly, “We spend all that money for you to go to a great school, meet a nice boy, and what do you do? Go after a goddamn airhead who doesn’t know the difference between Modigliani and Hopper! I get that you’re experimenting, but enough is enough, time to chuck out the trash, huh sweetheart?”

 

“Don’t you dare talk about Jo like that.” Anna finally said, her voice calm, but her eyes bright, her mother’s daughter. Jo was five seconds away from punching the air.

 

Her mother looked down at her through half-moon glasses and hummed. “Fine.” she said, indignant, muttering as she left the bathroom, “See you next Sunday.” And she was gone.

 

Jo let out a breath she hadn’t realised she was holding and just noticed the way Anna had been clinging to the hem of her shirt, a worn-out anchor. Jo went to lean forward and nuzzle Anna’s neck, but Anna pulled away. Scratch that, she flinched. “Please don’t,” she whispered, “I- I’m just gonna go home, I’m tired.”

 

She pushed away from the sinks and started to walk out as Jo called after her, “I’ll call you?”

 

Anna nodded shortly and suddenly there was Anna-less space, and Jo was alone in a gallery bathroom as she heard a little old lady flush the toilet and come out, looking at her awkwardly. Jo groaned and walked out, her heart feeling a lot heavier than it had when they’d walked in together, and she knew she was in way too deep. 


	6. Chapter Six

‘I’ll call you’ inevitably turned into ‘Please call me first, I’m dying over here’, and Jo felt herself grow in equal measure pissed and worried. Bad combo, zero points, potential knock-out. The ultimate bad combo, obviously, led to Cas’ place, which was looking more and more Dean-like with every visit to his doorstep.

“Still nothing?” she asked, for probably the million-and-third time that week. “Not even a smoke signal?”

Cas looked at her with his tilting head and sorry smile and Jo wanted to barf. “I’m sorry Joanna. Would you like to- ”

Running off: probably kinda rude. But Jo wasn’t in the mood for ‘nice’, ‘bubbly’, or any other lame-ass excuse to placate her churning guts. It was finally time to drown some serious sorrows.

 

 

* * *

 

Four beers down and the room was starting to warm up. Jo slung her plaid off her neck and tied the sleeves sloppily around her waist, because when the hell had knots become so complex?

As the room swayed, a flash of red caught her peripheral and she swerved in its general direction and-

Shit. Aw, man, great furious shards of _poopsicles_.

Anna - tear-streaked, dressed to the nines, tragically hot Anna - was making her way to the exit out of the restrooms. Exit pursued by a Ruby.

“Hey! You left your- oh, what-the-fuck-ever.” Ruby put her arm down and sneered at a nearby frat-boy paying too close attention. “What do you want, fuckboy, an autograph?”

Jo met that churned up rage with cheap beer chucked onto it and not-so-carefully dragged Ruby back into the ladies restroom, answering the following wolf-whistles with a middle finger. She’d promised Anna she’d give her her space. Ruby was not in Anna’s space (she damn well better not be, a jealous low voice slurred through her brain), therefore she was open season.

She backed her up against the sink (maybe a little too) forcefully and just kinda… stood there. Snorting grumpily in Ruby’s general direction.

“Careful, with all that hot air, slugger.” Ruby snarled, pushing Jo off easily. Embarrassingly so. “Won’t have enough to be so self-righteous if you waste it all on little me.”

“What the fuck did you say to Anna.” Statement, good and low. Nice one, Harvelle. Ruby shrugged, crossed arms playing at being nonchalant, but a closer look saw the messed up eyeliner that was usually so on point (dammit). Jo repeated the question/statement. Questment?

“Nothing, all right?” Ruby finally snapped, but she wasn’t done, oh no. “She won’t fucking talk to me, just- radio silence. Since we, uh,” she chewed at her lip, either judging Jo for how good her motor skills were (still better than any Winchester) or letting out a silent but deadly gaseous emission. “We were. Kinda, sorta, involved.”

Jo snorted to cover up her natural flinch to that, because _ouch_. “You wanna elaborate?”

“You wanna buy me a drink?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Which found them on uncomfortably close stools drinking bottom shelf whiskey and staring into the glassy eyes of each other in the mirror behind the good stuff. Jo kept waiting for Ruby to crack, but she didn’t say a work until she’d downed at least two fingers.

“It’s hard, okay? She was the first person who wasn’t a fucking dick to me. You don’t get over that quickly, and once you do, it’s just- fuck, you wouldn’t understand,” she snorted into her second glass, “Miss Blonde Softball Perfect-Ass.”

“That sounds like a complicated nickname to doodle on your journals.”

Ruby snorted again and downed her drink, not even needing to do more than nod at the bartender for him to get her another.

“Put it on my tab,” Jo said, sinking her teeth into her bottom lip. “We’ll be here a while.”

Ruby smirked, circling a finger around the rim (keep it clean, Harvelle, jeez), before her face crumpled just slightly.

“It’s my fault. It was- what was she said? I used sex as a weapon or some shit? I mean I- I didn’t mean to, I swear to God, but… y’know, good intentions and all that shit. Never got to make it up to her. Never got to tell her that she wasn’t, um, wasn’t just a willing mouth to me. But I’d made her feel that way, so, y’know, of course I didn’t get to keep her,” she paused to sniff, gulping back the amber in one smooth, eye-scorching move, “How could I tell her how much she meant to me?” Clearly Jo’s response was written all over her face. “Ugh, fuckin’ say it, dipshit.”

Jo blew out a lot of air and cracked her knuckles. “You should talk to her. She’s got stuff going on, and she needs, probably someone who isn’t me, to talk to her.”

A high-pitched honk escaped from Ruby, and Jo jumped in her seat.

“Funny.”

“What?”

“She thinks you don’t wanna talk to her, something about, I dunno, tracking back an art show or some shit?” she shook her head ruefully, “Red’s a goddamn roller coaster, that’s for sure.”

Jo got up, sobering up a little too quickly, head rush bringing it all forward, and she barely had one arm in her letterman before she was halfway out the door.

She got all of about five steps into the brisk air before she heard an audible gasp. Jo whipped ‘round to see Anna, cigarette hanging limply out of her perfect mouth, lipstick-stained paper making her ache everywhere.

But enough running around. “Where the hell’ve you been?” Thousands wouldn’t believe her, but Jo had really tried to sound pissed rather than as strung-out as she’d been all week. “I- I let you be and you just, what, run?” Her voice sounded so choked-up, so pathetic, “You gonna cut ’n’ run on me, Novak? Do I seriously mean that little to you, or what?” Oh great, tears. This was going so well.

Or. Well. Anna ran up to Jo and clung her to her chest, brow furrowed and hair wild. A cat yowled and a trashcan lid clattered to the floor and all Jo could feel was Anna’s heartbeat running fast.

Anna grabbed blindly at Jo’s jacket, fingers scrabbling against the material and- was she crying? Fuck, no, fuck. Buried against her chest, Anna let out wracked sobs to rival an X Factor contestant and Jo was beginning to understand the idea of the heart torn asunder.

Jo pulled her closer and Anna let out a little sigh, her whimpers dying out. She put her hand on the crown of Anna’s head, where it belonged, entangled in her hair, and she knew that, she knew that with every fibre of her being, but that wasn’t what was at stake here. If Anna didn’t feel it, Jo had to walk away before it tore them apart.

Anna lifted her head after her breathing had evened out, and looked at Jo. If it hadn’t been a packed moment, Jo would’ve outright laughed at the determined look on Anna’s face. Anna put her hand to Jo’s cheek, carefully drawing her thumb across the cheekbone, a paintbrush across a canvas. Jo closed her eyes and kept the memory on an in-breath.

“I’m sorry,” Anna murmured, and of course Jo would get dumped by the love of her life outside the fucking Roadhouse, “I’ve treated you appallingly.”

Jo let out a sorry snort, screwing her eyes closed tighter. Maybe if she didn’t look, it wouldn’t hurt as much.

“Could you forgive me? I know I haven’t been the most communicative-“

“Please don’t break up with me!” Jo blurted. Just. Such a futzin’ donkeybrains. She opened her eyes to see Anna’s beautiful mouth framed in a little ‘o’. “Please. At least not... here.”

Anna was probably the most emotionally intelligent person Jo had had the pleasure of making out with, and even then the array of emotions that crossed her face should’ve caused a major malfunction. “I’m not breaking up with you, Jo.”

Wait, what?

“Wait, what?” Jo asked, feeling more than a little slack-jawed.

Anna smiled like the sun had just come out at two in the morning and she leaned in and- ah.

How Jo had missed those lips. She’d go through the same mental torture and fret and general moodiness if at the end of it she got one kiss from those petal-soft lips. She dreamt of those lips, sans mental torture. Obviously. 

“Oh cool,” she breathed as Anna pulled away, thumb chasing Jo’s tongue back into her mouth only to run along her bottom lip. Her eyes were darker as she leaned in, but something nagged at the back of her mind.

“You should talk to Ruby,” she rushed out and dang it, the lips paused in their approach and retreated. Dang.

“You thinking about other girls when you’re kissing me, Jo?”

“No, _no_ , dear baby Jesus, no, but. She’s really messed up, I think you should talk to her. If you want. When you’re ready. It’s silly, I’m silly, can we go back to making out now?”

Anna smirked, all thoughtful and _not making out what the hell_. “I’ll talk to her. Only ‘cause you’re so fucking strange, Harvelle.”

Jo smirked, leaning back in, “Yeah, I know. Freak with a Dali fetish.”

“Ew, dripping clocks get you off?”

“Drippin’ somethin’,” she whispered against Anna’s lips, and she pulled away _c’mooon_.

Her head knocked back in a wild cackle and her eyes were bright and hey, making out was cool, but this came close second.

Finally, Anna’s breath ghosted against her cheek and all the yowling cats and insecurities in the world wouldn’t stop Jo from holding her closer than anything.

 


	7. Chapter Seven

It was weird, the way the thunder rolled like a disconcerted stomach across the horizon. Rain was clearly about to break, but the static tension caused the sky to hold desperately onto it, bladder iron-strong, no mom, I can wait until the next service station.

Jo traced the window pane absently until Anna finally cupped two clammy hands over her eyes. Jo snorted, dipping her head back so her ponytail tipped against Anna’s nose, eyes still shrouded by clamminess.

“You rea-dy?” Anna sing-songed in her ear, soft and bubbling. She punctuated it with a kiss just behind Jo’s ear and Jo was dead certain lightning was about to crack her apart.

“Well, duh, ya butt, I was  _born_ ready,” she said, her voice only wobbling a bit.

Anna swerved them around, the clammy twins still in place over Jo’s face. She had enough sense of direction to lead them to Anna’s make-shift studio, although she assumed she narrowly missed the doorjamb at one point, on account of the slight roil of sea sickness as Anna darted them sharply to the right. Eh, sense of direction maybe needed a little tune-up.

The soft curling whisper was back. “Okay. Man, I’m kinda nervous, it’s like, the finished product and- ”

“For Gaughin’s sake, woman! Eyes, on,  _now._ ”

Bright perfect light flooded Jo’s vision for a moment before it cleared up into a whole other kind of perfect.

The painting, hers truly bathed in angelic light embracing Anna, was complete and. And it was.

“You’re doing your impression of a fish out of water, what, is it bad?” Anna buzzed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. The painting was practically singing and Jo could feel the light and warmth and how much she wanted to hold Anna, maybe possibly kinda forever.

So, she turned to her and kissed her. Soft and everything, barely a touch, really. But she couldn’t quite form words to tell Anna how she felt about the painting. How she felt about her. So this would have to be a start.

She pulled away and Anna’s eyes were closed, her lips parted  _just so_ , her messy bun a halo on her head. Michelangelo would’ve clawed at the marble until his fingers bled to free her.

Jo just smiled at her. “That enough?” She settled in the red armchair to the side, leaned back to appreciate the finer details, the use of gold leaf, the careful brush strokes, the fluidity of the piece.

Instead, she got a lapful of Anna.

“Screw art critique, you goddamn nerd,” she breathed before going to town on Jo’s lips. Jo moaned unabashedly as she ground her hips sharply into Jo’s general lap area.

Caught up in, well, Perfection with a capital P, Jo flushed as she realised she needed to slow the fuck down or else she wouldn’t be able to keep her clothes on.

But- but Anna just kept going, unzipping her jeans briefly before launching back into her attack, groaning and fuck, making The Best Noises Ever Heard By Human Ears.

Jo pulled back, forcibly holding Anna’s head back to look into her eyes, soul-like, really searching for the want she felt racketing about her ribs 24/7.

And- it was. It was.

Jo grinned, touching their foreheads together, “Fuck, Anna are you sure?”

Anna sighed, so long-suffering, wriggling around in her seat, “Would you shut up and kiss me, please?” She let out a breathy, weighted laugh, kissing Jo’s nose gently, “Yes, yes a thousand and one times please, yes.”

“You’re the boss.”

With those words, Anna seemed unleashed, pressing bruising kisses tenderly on every spare piece of skin she could find, magically managing to grind her zip directly onto Jo’s clit.

“Holy mother of Hopper,” Jo breathed.

Anna  _snickered_ , goddamnit, as Jo just writhed and whined like a frickin’ amateur, until Anna sought the wherewithal to pull her sweatpants down to find a whole lot of nothin’.

“It’s laundry day!” she squawked, but Anna just rolled her eyes, followed smoothly by rolling her-  _woah who knew tongues could even do that?_

If Jo had been stunned by Anna’s talent on a canvas, it was nothing in comparison to how masterful the tip of her tongue was in relation to Jo’s vagina (ok, maybe not  _nothing_ , but she was being eaten out by Anna freakin’ Novak, forgive a hyperbole or two, c’mon).

Even for Jo, who, to be honest, had been on the edge since she pretty much met Anna, she came embarrassingly quickly, hips bucking fiercely right onto Anna’s mouth, feeling her suck and lick her out so thoroughly she’d probably need a couple protein bars and a gallon of orange juice to replenish.

She leaned back, breathing hard, watching Anna sit back on her haunches, wiping her mouth and looking way too put together and waaay too smug for Jo’s liking.

“Oh no, clothes off missy, you’re messin’ with the MVP of pussy-licking, and I don’t give up my crown that easy.”

Laying Anna out on the carpet was like setting down a buffet, but like, a buffet you’ve gotten to know and love to spend time with. She took

Jo tweaked a coral nipple, Anna’s skin pebbled and chest heaving. She watched Anna squirm with utter delight as she leaned down, mouth open in a wide smile. “Man, I am gonna take,”  _lick_ , “my,”  _lick_ , “time,”  _lick._

Moans spilled from Anna’s mouth, her body twisting perfectly under Jo’s hands, like a sculpture that was never meant to be stationary, grabbing at Jo’s hair, at any limb she could catch ahold of. Jo wanted nothing more than to take her apart as slow as possible, leaving a litter of bruises as her mouth trailed further down.

“Fuck, Jo, I’ve dreamt of this,” Anna gasped, curling paint-stained fingers in Jo’s hair as she kissed Anna’s hipbones one at a time. “Dreamt of you, always, I don’t know- I don’t know, fuck, I don’t know what I’m saying but seriously, get your mouth on me, fuck.”

Jo lifted her head slightly, unable to help the purr (mwahaha), “Are you always this potty-mouthed, or am I the only one allowed this?”

Anna smirked but there were huge waves of everything behind her eyes, “There’s only you.”

With that, Jo sucked tiny bruised to creamy thighs before bending to lick so deep into Anna Novak she’d end up with diamond-encrusted saliva.

She continued to ramble as Jo took her apart with tongue and fingers and lips and even - who knew? - a little bit of teeth. Anna came with a shriek, following quick, gasping squeaks that had fluttered her stomach like overturned sheets.

Before Jo had a moment to consider that life-changing experience, she was wrenched up by the neck and found herself being kissed sloppily within an inch of her life. Also, her leg was getting some attention, with Anna humping it to ride out the dregs of her orgasm, desperately bucking and moaning into her mouth.

Like a whirlwind, she pulled Jo forward to straddle her lap to continue making out with her when suddenly she giggled maniacally. Jo couldn’t help but scrunch up her nose in confusion.

In reply, Anna widened her eyes and beckoned, biting her bottom lip between her teeth. And then. She ruined it. By making a goddamn  _train noise_. She made it worse (how?) by squeezing her nose and saying, “All aboard,” in the most nasal train conductor voice ever.

Jo was torn between sitting on her face to shut her up and kissing her senseless because  _how in love am I with this fuckin’ dork._

For posterity, she went with sitting on her face.

***

Jo breathed heavily, fingers crooked deeply inside Anna as she panted against her collar bone, the two of them mirrored exactly, buried inside each other, desperate, rubbing and desperate.

“Fuck, Jo, I’m- ”

“I know, I know, fuck, Anna…”

They cried out seconds after each other, coming apart and together all at once. Finally the storm broke and they kissed lazily, rocking against one another in the red armchair, decidedly naked and unbelievably content as the rain fell in droves.


End file.
